


This World Will Remember Us

by justwantedtodance



Series: never forgive, never forget. [2]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, F/M, Hello Naughty List, Mystery, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwantedtodance/pseuds/justwantedtodance
Summary: A continuation of "What a Lovely Way to Burn." Wilbur has an assignment for Linda that comes with a small a conflict of interest. Will her hesitancy to accept prevail, or will she take on the job to begin realizing her full potential?
Relationships: Gerald Monroe/Linda Monroe, Wilbur Cross/Linda Monroe
Series: never forgive, never forget. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804828
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	This World Will Remember Us

**Author's Note:**

> It's still smutty, but we do have some plot in here! I hope you're intrigued because it's about to get JUICY. Stay tuned, friends!

She said yes. Linda made sure she wouldn’t condemn herself to a life of boredom and monotony, but until she can make a clean getaway from Gerald, she’ll have to play the perfect wife by day so she can play in the shadows at night. Wilbur makes her feel truly alive for the first time since the first year or so of her marriage, and being with him gives her something to look forward to. When they’re together, he dotes on her, showers her with attention, and always makes sure to leave her satisfied before she returns home. It’s a perfect little scheme that almost works too well.

“When will you be back, Linda,” Gerald asks as he puts the dishes away from dinner.

“Shouldn’t be long, just making a quick trip to the pharmacy.”

“At this time of night?” He takes a few steps towards the front door where Linda is grabbing her coat and reapplying her lipstick. “What’s going on, Linda? I’m not an idiot, I can tell something’s the matter.”

Linda’s heart begins to race. “Gerald, I told you, I just have to run out quickly. Just wait for me in bed, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Why can’t I accompany you then if it’s just a quick errand?”

“Well, you need your rest. I know you have to be at the hospital early in the morning, and I don’t want you to be tired. I’ll be fine, Gerald.”

Her husband catches her hand before it goes to turn the doorknob, and Linda gasps as she feels his body close in, trapping her between him and the door. Dangerously, he leans in and whispers harshly, “You know, I’d hope you know better than to go run off with someone else behind my back. Don’t forget that you’d be nothing without me.” Gerald gently swats her on the backside and lets her go. “I’ll wait up for you in bed.”

Linda doesn’t say anything else; she turns the doorknob and steps out into the night. She waits until Gerald is out of earshot to let out a frustrated scream and run her fingers through her blonde hair.

“I can’t take no more of this. This nightmare has to end,” she mutters to herself as she paces around the porch.

As much as she wants to take the car to get there quicker and because she wants to go for a speedy drive, she doesn’t, convincing herself that the walk will clear her head. In some ways, the fresh air is a welcome friend, but walking alone in the silence gives her more time to think and grow more frustrated with herself and Gerald.

She finds the building on the edge of downtown, conveniently about a block and a half away from the pharmacy, and takes the stairs down to the lower level. Bottles clinking and raucous laughter most likely means she’s in the right place, and she confirms it when she lays eyes on _him_ , cigarette dangling from his long fingers and that signature smirk.

“Well, well. Hello, naughty list.” The men at the poker table, all five of them, lift their heads and stare at the woman who entered the lion’s den. One looks confused and slightly awestruck at Linda, clearly knowing who she is, while the rest offer looks of hungry adoration.

Wilbur notices and sets his drink on the table before crossing the room to Linda, immediately pulling her in for a kiss. The men at the table resume their previous activities trying to conceal their disappointment. Wilbur’s hand shifts down to her ass and squeezes it just before drawing back ever so slightly. “Good of you to stop in, honeybee. Got a little surprise for ya.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Linda says, hiding her smile.

“You know me, I can’t help it if I wanna spoil you.” He leads her into a back office room, somewhere they can be alone. Linda assumes that the natural order of things is set to continue, so as soon as she steps through the door, she reaches for the buttons on Wilbur’s shirt. “Someone’s eager tonight,” he remarks with a small laugh.

“Can’t help it. I missed you.” Linda continues to work her way down his shirt, but his hands cover hers gently.

“I was gonna wait to give you that surprise later, baby doll. My actual surprise is that I have an assignment for you.”

Linda’s eyebrows raise in question. “An assignment?”

Wilbur nods and kisses her hand before making his way around the desk. “Indeed. We’ve had tabs on someone for quite some time now. None of us have been able to get close enough to him, but we believe you can.”

He plucks a file from the drawer and slides it across the desk to Linda, who sits down and looks at the folder in question. Wilbur nods to her to open it, so she takes a peek inside. Her mouth immediately drops open.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.” He smiles to himself at his own joke.

“Wilbur, are you insane?! My own husband?!”

Wilbur sighs and starts to round the desk to her side. “Linda, let me explain—“

She scoffs, jumping out of her chair. “No explanation needed. I won’t do it. Nothing you could say to me would ever make me consider it.”

“Please, just let me—“

“So, your little act at _Jouet_ was just, what? A ploy to get me alone? To cheat on my husband?”

“You already did that without my influence, kitten,” Wilbur says darkly.

“Screw you,” Linda spits, turning her back on him and darting for the door. Wilbur’s quicker, placing himself in front of the door before she can put a hand on the knob.

“Oh, it would be a pleasure, darlin’. Hear me out first, and I’d be more than happy to.” Linda drops her hands to her sides and curls them into fists, her nails digging into her palms. “Now, let’s sit and talk about this calmly, alright?” 

Linda sits down at the desk again, and Wilbur follows suit, pausing for a breath before speaking. “Let me ask you a question. Do you know what it is that your husband actually does?”

“He’s a doctor,” Linda answers immediately with disinterest.

“Yes, but do you know what actually goes on at that hospital?” She looks up knitting her eyebrows together. “The reason we’ve kept such a watchful eye on him is because he’s not the saint you think he is. I’d tell you some of the things I’ve found out from my sources, but I don’t wanna make you sick to your stomach.”

Linda folds her arms and steels her gaze. “And you think I can’t handle it?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not that you couldn’t handle it. It’s that I’m tryin’ to spare you. But if you’d rather me tell you about the so-called research that goes on behind those doors or how your husband has intentionally screwed up medical procedures or how he’s involved in the case of that poor girl Hannah Foster, then I’m more than happy to give you all the dirty details—“

“I don’t believe you. Gerald would never do something so awful.”

“Then you must not know your husband as well as you think. I’m just tellin’ you the truth so you can stop him before he hurts anyone else. Look, Linda, I don’t know what else you want me to say—“

She stands up indignantly. “You don’t need to say anything else. I’m leaving, and I hope you don’t ask me to ever do anything like that again.”

“You hope I don’t ask you to fight for justice? You hope I _don’t_ want you to help me cleanse the world of all the scumbags who parade around as servants of the people when they don’t give a rat’s ass about us?” He takes a step closer to Linda, his voice softening. “You hope that I don’t want you to run this town with me?”

With her back turned to him, he can’t see the change in her facial expression as interest and speculation grows, but he does see the change in her posture. She relaxes briefly, not as hellbent on rushing out the door, and straightens up ever so slightly hoping he doesn’t take notice of it.

He presses on. “I can’t make you stay, Linda Rose, but consider my offer. You’ll be doing a good thing for both of us.”

She leaves, her head filled to the brim with concerns, questions, and frustrations that she came to get rid of but have only grown since her departure from Wilbur’s hideout. Linda doesn’t bother with analyzing any of her thoughts too deeply and tries to make it home without convincing herself to walk into a lamppost for sport.

Linda quietly sets her purse down in the foyer and sheds her coat before tiptoeing up the stairs to her bedroom. Perhaps Gerald would be awake; he is at least good with his hands and can give a solid shoulder rub. Unfortunately, Linda finds him snoring and sprawled on the bed, a glass of scotch on the bedside table. She debates crawling in the bed and potentially waking him but decides against it. Ignorance is bliss in this situation, she thinks.

She changes into her nightclothes quickly and makes her way down the hall into River’s bedroom. He’s asleep, thank heavens, so Linda curls up in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and lets herself sink into a light slumber.

“Mommy? Mama, are you okay?” Her six year-old boy taps Linda’s shoulder repeatedly to rouse her.

She blinks and yawns. “River, what are you doing awake, baby?”

“I needed to potty. What’s wrong, mommy? You’re not in bed.”

“Mommy just… had a bad dream, that’s all.” Linda averts her eyes from her son’s.

“You know what I do to get rid of the bad dreams?”

“What do you do, pumpkin?”

“I snuggle with mommy, and with Beary.”

Linda smiles and pulls her son into her lap, embracing him tightly. “That’s right, you do. You know I used to hold you just like this when you’d wake up in the middle of the night as a baby. I’d rock you for hours until you went back to sleep and hope it made the bad dreams go away. River, do you think mommy could snuggle with you for tonight for a change?”

River nods his head and hugs Linda tightly. She slides into her son’s bed, and he rests his head on her chest. Linda strokes his blonde hair and soothes him back to sleep, and though she wishes sleep would come more easily, she’s at least grateful to forget about the pain just for a moment. She can feel at peace for the briefest of moments.

The next morning, Gerald is out of the house before she wakes up, still cradling her son. The other boys are still in their beds, home from school for the winter holidays, so Linda goes to check for Gerald in their bedroom but can’t find him. He does, however, leave her a note on the bedside table.

_Linda, My suit for the charity gala this evening is at the dry cleaner. Could you bring it to me at the hospital? We’ll go for lunch if you’d like. — Gerald_

This is good. This feels like a scene from a past life, one before all the pain and bitterness, and it’s seducing her to come along and be reminded of the past. For a brief moment, she sighs, a warmth flooding her heart as nostalgia sweeps her off her feet. Maybe she’ll give it a try. Maybe this time can be different.

Linda picks up the suit just before noon and waits in the hospital lobby for Gerald to come out. He’s shrugging on a jacket as he leaves the hospital ward and almost breezes clearly past Linda waiting at the reception desk.

“Ahem?” Linda taps her toe and gives Gerald a pointed stare.

“Oh! Linda, sugar plum, how are you?” He kisses her cheek, and Linda forces her smile in place since she knows people are staring. Though she wishes to feel the same flutter in her stomach when he dotes on her and calls her cute nicknames, nothing comes.

“Just fine, thank you, Gerald. Here’s your suit. Charlotte sends her best.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now, shall we? I’m thinking maybe lunch at the Davidsons’ diner?”

The couple sits at an outdoor table across from each other enjoying the unseasonably mild weather for the end of December. Linda politely asks how his day at work is going, so Gerald begins to explain in great detail. She listens closely for any signs of something awry, anything that might support Wilbur’s hair-brained case against him, but while he yammers on in irrelevant anecdotes and vague details, Linda grows frustrated. She turns down to her menu and mutters an acknowledgement every so often while she navigates the dead end thought.

Lost in thought, she turns her gaze up and outward and spots something that makes her second guess her sanity. It can’t be. He wouldn’t. From across the street, she spots Wilbur leaning against the bricks of the jewelry shop tossing an apple in his left hand. He meets Linda’s eyes and smirks, sending a wink in her direction.

“Linda, are you alright, dove?”

She doesn’t realize that her mouth is hanging open as she’s staring off into the distance. “What? Sorry, Gerald, I’m fine, I just saw a very large… bird.”

Gerald turns around in his chair but doesn’t see what Linda is referring to. Linda looks puzzled when she looks across the way and sees nothing. “Hmmm, must have flown off.”

“Must have,” Linda mumbles as she returns her gaze to the menu in front of her.

“Any dessert for you two,” the waitress asks.

Gerald declines the offer, and when he asks Linda, she’s off staring into that same spot. Staring at Wilbur. She’s tempted to decline as she normally would, but she stops the waitress before she leaves.

“Actually, could I have a slice of apple pie?” The waitress walks away with a saccharine smile and Linda settles back in her seat. Upon Gerald’s curious expression, she replies, “What? It’s a special day, and I doubt I’ll bust my corset from a little slice of pie. Plus, apples are in season.”

Gerald smiles at his wife, as does the denim-clad man across the way. Linda’s lips turn up as she gives Wilbur a parting glance before turning her attention back to her husband.

“I knew she’d change her mind,” Wilbur says under his breath.

The charity gala goes as smooth as butter, Linda obeying her social graces and batting her eyes at all the right people to increase their donations for the new pediatrics wing of the hospital. She waves to each of the patrons and schmoozes the right investors as she makes her way around the ballroom. There’s no reason for her to suspect anything nefarious about her husband, as he’s been nothing but considerate and kind all evening.

Someone steals Gerald away for a conversation about plans for the architecture of the hospital, so Linda takes a moment to find a waiter with a tray of champagne, plucking a flute out and taking a long sip.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You sure do know how to play ‘em, don’t ya, Linda Rose.”

“What in God’s name are you doing here,” Linda hisses, nearly choking on her drink, turning around and shooing Wilbur into a darkened corner of the ballroom. “You know, if someone finds you here, they’ll have my head, then yours, then mine again.”

Wilbur chuckles. “Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout that now, Linda. I’m pretty good about keeping myself inconspicuous. I came here because I was hoping you’ve reconsidered my offer.”

She sighs and looks down at her feet. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s any foul play going on, and I’m not about to make my husband out to be some criminal when he’s done nothing to earn it.”

“Well, from the conversation I just overheard, it sounded like your precious Gerald has caught himself in a nasty little spider web that’s gonna take more than Goldstein to get him out of.”

Linda narrows her eyes at him. “Tell me everything you know.”

“Oh, all in good time, honeybee. There’s much to say that we need to discuss in private.”

“I can’t leave, though. I’m needed here,” Linda replies, the agitation seeping into her voice.

“You sure there’s nothing I could do to change your mind, hmm?” He steps closer to her and brushes his hand against her lower back. “No way I could convince you that your company is requested elsewhere?”

She looks up at Wilbur with a blush as his hand spreads across her back while the other comes up to tuck her hair behind her ear. He makes her feel so alive, and she can’t help but close her eyes and tilt her head up for a kiss. Their lips meet, and she’s left breathless. Linda grips his shoulders for stability and plunges deeper into the kiss, forgetting the stifling world around her just for a moment and letting herself be free.

Really, she should have known better, though. She should have been more aware of the risks of someone seeing her… of Gerald seeing her. 

He can’t tell who the man is, but he does know that his wife is locked in a tight embrace with someone who isn’t him. A tingling rage simmers in his throat, but for now, he chooses to quell it. Best not to make a scene. He’ll discuss this with Linda at home.

Linda breaks away from the kiss and holds one of Wilbur’s hands. “I’ll evaluate again and let you know, alright? Now, get out of here.”

As the party begins to wind down, Linda finds her way back to Gerald’s side to thank everyone for coming. He’s keeping up appearances and flattering her like he’s not done in years, which either means he’s as bird-brained as Wilbur suspects or he’s a damn good actor.

“I think it’s about time we take our leave, don’t you, dove?”

“Hopefully, the boys are off to bed. Wouldn’t want them all riled up at this time of night.”

“Certainly not. Well, let’s get going then.” Gerald takes her wrist in his hand and all but drags her away from the party and to their car to go home.

The short ride home is spent in tense silence, and Linda hopes he can’t hear her heart beating inside her chest. She recognizes that white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, the cold stare at the road ahead, the clench in his jaw. Something isn’t right. She hopes it’s not something to do with her.

He pulls the car in and helps Linda out of her seat, but as soon as they’re inside the house, he slams her back against the front door, cornering her with his body.

“Do you think I’m a dunce, Linda? Do you really think I’m that much of a fool?”

Linda closes her eyes and sighs. “What are you talking about, Gerald? It’s late, can we just go to bed?”

“Not until you’ve explained what you think you were doing locking lips with another man at the gala tonight.”

Linda freezes, her mind immediately in panic. “Gerald, darling, I can explain…”

“How long?” Linda says nothing, looking down at her shoes. Gerald hits his hand against the door near her ear and asks again. “How long, Linda?”

“It was just a flirtation,” she stammers. “Gerald, please, it’s nothing to be concerned with.”

He steps away from the door and into the kitchen, running his hands through his hair. “I just… if there was something wrong, something I wasn’t doing, why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Poor choice of words, husband dearest.

“Oh, so you want me to be completely transparent with you, but somehow I’m not extended the same courtesy when it comes to, I don’t know, your job?”

“I’m a doctor, you know what it is I do,” Gerald says, annoyed, as he pours himself a glass of scotch.

“Then why do I also know about the purposely botched surgeries? The experiments? Does the name Hannah Foster ring a bell?”

Gerald practically breaks his glass on the counter and turns on his heel to face Linda. He lifts his hand and strikes it across her cheek. “I don’t know who told you that or why,” he begins darkly, “but you don’t know what you’re talking about, and it certainly isn’t your place to question me.”

“If you’re hurting people on purpose, I have a right to question it. That makes you a criminal. Not only have you hurt people I don’t know, but you’ve also hurt me, and you’re gonna pay.”

“You’re being histrionic, Linda.”

“No, I’m not,” she yells. “I’ve defended you, stood by your side being your perfect little wife for so long when I should have run for the hills ages ago. You’re a bad man, Gerald.”

He backs her against the counter, practically stalking as he moves. “Even if you did tell them, who’s gonna believe you? You’ve always been so melodramatic, darling, why would anyone believe this idiotic tale you’ve invented?”

“Because I’ll find a way to prove it.”

Gerald chuckles. “You’ll try, but I don’t think you have what it takes.”

“Then you severely underestimate me, dear.”

If she can just wriggle her hand a little further to the… got it. Her hand closes around the rolling pin behind her, and she gives herself an internal victory cry. Gerald turns his back to pour himself another drink. Rookie mistake, darling.

Linda takes the time to muster all her strength, send a quick prayer for salvation, and hits Gerald over the head as hard as she can. He collapses with a grunt, his head barely missing the counter on the way down, and Linda backs up a few steps as he falls to contemplate her next action.

It’s what he deserves, she thinks. She’ll make sure he’s remembered for the person he truly is. Linda takes the sharpest knife at her disposal, lifts it up, and sets her eyes on her target.

“I hope God doesn’t take pity on you. Go to hell, Gerald.”

She slashes the knife along Gerald’s throat and watches the blood spurt onto the tile and the bottoms of her legs. She takes a long exhale as she looks down at her now dead husband’s body. It’s done. It’s over now.

Quick, what do you do now, Linda? Think. Yes, dispose of the body. But how? Stay the bleeding to avoid it spilling elsewhere and drag it outside in the woods. Simplest way to do it. She’ll find a better, more permanent solution later.

Linda heaves out a breath as she pitches Gerald’s body into the woods behind their house. Good, that’s good. Next to hide what evidence she can. Linda cleans what blood she can visibly see from the floors and countertops and pitches the rag she uses into the waste. 

It’s about all she can do for the night. Well, of course, except ponder the implications of and the consequences for what she’s done. She paces the room and decides she needs to get out of the house, so she takes her coat and bolts out of the house without a glance backwards.

The streets are desolate, and the world seems a lot colder as she makes her way downtown. Everything is familiar but completely foreign. She’s looking at the world from a new perspective as she spots her reflection in the rain puddles below, fractured and splintered like a broken mirror, and she’s hoping to make sense of things somehow or at least have someone to help her do that.

She descends the staircase of the shadow-covered building and takes a breath before entering the smoky lounge. Wilbur, denim shirt fully opened to reveal a white tank top underneath, takes a drag of his cigarette as he polishes his gun.

“Come back in the morning, we’re closed for the…” Wilbur looks up and sees Linda at the bottom of the staircase. “Linda. What are you doin’ here so late? You alright? Christ, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Linda tries to keep her lip from quivering as she brandishes the fateful knife from behind her back, still freshly blood-stained. “I have.”

He stares incredulously at the knife she’s holding. Wow. She really did it.

“Is that…?” Linda nods, understanding what he’s referring to. Shit, he didn’t expect her to actually do it. Maybe he’ll get the story later, but for now, he asks, “How do you feel?”

Quite frankly, she doesn’t know. She’s relieved in some ways and frightened in others. Proud but also guilty. The best way she can describe her emotional state is a goddamn clusterfuck.

But after a beat, she whispers with a small smile, “Good. Real damn good.”

Wilbur’s lips curl upward into a smirk. He takes her wrist and brings the hand holding the knife up to his mouth to lick the blade of Gerald’s blood. Linda gasps at his borderline obscene gesture, and Wilbur looks into her eyes sparkling with a sensual glow. “Go on, try it,” he husks.

She blinks a few times deciding if she should. Tasting her husband’s blood? The product of her kill? On the surface, it sounds horrifying, but at the same time, thinking of literally tasting her triumph fills her with a sense of pride. Yeah, might not be so bad. She bends her head down and takes a tiny swipe of it with her tongue. Intrigued and pleasantly surprised, she flattens her tongue against the blade and licks the rest of the blood from the side, closing her eyes and letting a small moan escape.

Wilbur echoes her sound and wraps his hand around her waist to pull her in closer. Linda flings the knife aside in passion and twines her arms around his neck, kissing him greedily. The irony taste of blood is bitter and harsh, but the sweetness of her mouth is the perfect counterbalance. He picks her up and takes her back into the office where he planned to have his way with her last night. Better late than never, he supposes.

He sets her down on top of the desk, and she immediately sets to work on pulling off his shirt while kissing him.

“God damn, Linda.” He tugs down the zipper on her dress and pulls it to reveal her brassiere. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby. I’ve wanted to get you outta this dress all night, you know.”

She stands up to take it completely off, leaving her in her undergarments. Wilbur takes a second to admire her before unclipping her stockings and dragging them down her legs with her garter belt and tossing her shoes off to the side. He wants to lavish her with attention, wants to take care of her like she should be, but for Linda’s frenzied state of arousal, he’s much too slow.

“Ugh, just fuck me.”

“Mmmm, is this you being dominant or desperate, honeybee?”

“Wilbur,” she seethes, sliding back onto the desk and laying down on her back.

He laughs. Ignoring the question gives him exactly the answer he needs. “Fine, but if you want me to fuck you, I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars. Turn over.” Linda shoots him a quizzical look but slowly heeds his request. He steps up to her and grabs her by the hips, which forces her onto her hands.

“Like this?”

“That alright with you?” Linda nods. “Good.” Wilbur unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants just enough to fit himself inside her and grasps the front of her hip for leverage. He sinks inside of her and groans. “Oh, Linda, you’re incredible.”

The sensation is unfamiliar to her, but it’s damn good. Sure, she’s been on top before, but Gerald was always so safe and vanilla that he never wanted to try anything new. Linda could get used to this though. The angle he’s thrusting at sets every pleasure circuit aflame, and, damn that man, he’s making good on his promise.

“Mmmm, god, yes,” she moans.

“I don’t think God would approve of this, baby doll.”

“Probably not, but I’ve already broken one commandment tonight, why not break a few more?”

Wilbur laughs and gives her a little slap on the ass. “I’ve made a bad girl outta you, Linda Rose.”

“She was always there; you just hadn’t seen her till now.”

Linda lets out a broken high-pitched sound as he speeds up his pace behind her, and she grips the sides of the desk, arching her back.

“You like that, don’t you, kitten?” She nods and sighs. “Good girl. Just relax and let me take care of you now.”

Wiping any coherent thoughts from her mind, she lets the pleasure take over and focuses on feeling. For a moment, he slows down to increase his depth, and Linda thinks she might explode in white-hot arousal. He’s talking to her all the while, murmuring obscene filth in her ear about how good it is to fuck her. Linda’s moans grow louder and breathier as she finds her release, and Wilbur finds his own shortly after, a long groan accompanying the spill of his come on her back.

He cleans her off first before he buttons up his pants and sits in the desk chair with a sigh. Linda starts to redress herself, methodically putting her stockings and garter belt in place, when he stops her.

“Hey.” Linda looks up at him inviting her to sit on his lap. “C’mere, darlin’.”

It’s impossible how beautiful she looks in her state of half-dress, and he wishes he could admire her like this all the time. Linda takes a few steps over to him and straddles his lap in the chair, leaning in to kiss him slowly.

For a while, they just sit lazily kissing, roaming their hands along each other’s skin with no final destination in mind. There’s nothing hurried about this, and they both can’t deny how fantastic it feels to slow down and just be.

She pulls her bruised and kiss-bitten lips away first, though. “I should probably head home. I’m sure there’ll be loads of questions come morning.”

“Maybe one of these days I’ll get you to stay?”

Linda puffs a small laugh as she stands and recovers her dress from the floor. “We’ll see. Don’t hold your breath, though.”

“I’ve got strong lungs, I think I’ll manage,” he quips as he zips the back of her dress.

“Strong lungs? With all those cigarettes you smoke? That’s the biggest hunk of bologna I’ve ever heard.”

“Sounds like a challenge to me, little lady.”

Linda turns around and smirks at him. She reaches up on her toes for one final kiss. “Good night, Wilbur.”

He watches her leave and tips his head back and runs his fingers through his hair as soon as she’s gone. One of these days, maybe it’ll happen.

* * *

The sun rises the next morning, and the Monroe house is overrun with chaos. Her boys immediately ask where their father is, to which Linda responds, “I don’t know, I’m sure he’s at the hospital early yet again.”

Suddenly, Edward, the groundskeeper, rushes in from the back of the house. “Mrs. Monroe, ma’am, please, come quickly. There’s something you need to see.”

Sure enough, Edward leads her to Gerald’s mangled body in the woods just as she left him hours beforehand. Linda shakes her head, and she cries, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

“Oh, Gerald. I’m so sorry. Wh-who would do such a thing? God almighty, what am I going to tell the kids? What’s going to happen now?”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll help you take care of everything. If you need to take the time to grieve, I’ll let Nora know to come keep the children entertained while you sort out arrangements and such.”

He offers her a handkerchief to blot her eyes with, and Linda takes it readily. “Thank you, Edward. I’m sure I’ll have lots of interviews and such to prepare for, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Linda rushes upstairs to compose herself, completely ignoring the boys at the table ready to eat breakfast.

“What’s wrong with mama,” River asks quietly as Edward comes back into the house.

“She’s just not feeling well, that’s all. How ‘bout I make you boys some breakfast, hmmm? Y’all like cinnamon buns?”

Upstairs, Linda’s head begins to pound as she leans on the bathroom counter suddenly in internal warfare with herself. Was her decision last night so stupid and reckless that it could cost her everything? Did she do it to protect herself and others… or was it her own selfish desire taking hold of her? And why in the hell did it feel good to watch the life drain from his eyes? Why did she lap up his blood from the knife like a greedy cat? What sadistic devil has taken over her?

Unless Wilbur was right. Unless he knows something she doesn’t, that the dark has been in her all along and it took this little incident for her to recognize it. Unless this was just the first step on her rightful path where she belongs.

Well, she’ll have to wait to find out if the accusations are actually true, but she’ll do what she can to prove her actions were justified. But not right now. Now, she needs to prepare herself for the slew of questions and appearances as a new widow.

She steps up to the town hall podium, eyes still puffy from crying earlier in the day.

“Yes, thank you all for coming. It is such a tragedy that I stand here before you without my husband. Last night, he… was killed in cold blood and left in the woods. And there’s much about what happened that I don’t know, but…”

Linda looks up and out to the crowd, and while scanning the people’s reactions, she spots a familiar face hanging back on the wall. He came. Wilbur nods at her, and she visibly loosens up, her shoulders dropping away from her ears as her breathing slows.

“But I do know that this town lost a wonderful man, as I lost my wonderful husband. He will be dearly missed.”

The town hall meeting continues as scheduled, but Linda can’t seem to stop fidgeting, finding phantom strings and threads on her dress to pick at while Mayor Goodman speaks. He comes to her after the meeting adjourns and offers his genuine sympathy and goodwill.

“Now, if there’s anything you don’t wanna talk about or anything that makes you nervous, just direct it to me, alright? No sense in riling you up while you’re still grieving.”

Linda forces a smile. “Thank you, Howard, you’re a good man.”

She leaves town hall through a side door that takes her down an alleyway where she can gain peace and perspective away from prying eyes.

Three slow claps ring out. “Well done, honeybee. Coulda fooled me with those tears. Have you ever considered a career in acting? I know I’d like to see you up on the silver screen.”

Wilbur kisses Linda’s cheek and travels down to her neck, and he expects her to respond more fervently as she usually does, but when she doesn’t, he pulls back and addresses her with concern, rubbing her shoulders.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on, Linda? You alright?”

Short answer: no. If it weren’t obvious enough already. But she feels like she can offer him a bit more explanation than that.

She lowers her voice and snaps at him. “I’m standin’ up there havin’ to pretend like I don’t know who killed my husband when I’m lyin’ through my teeth because, oh right, that’s me. You really think I’m alright?”

For the briefest moment, Wilbur looks wounded, but he disguises it quickly by tucking her hair behind her ear and silently admiring her instead.

Linda sighs and closes her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so cross with you. I just… I still don’t know if I did the right thing.”

“You did.” A voice appears from around the corner, and both Linda and Wilbur’s head snap around to find its source: a young woman.

“What the hell do you know,” Linda growls, marching up to the woman.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mrs. Monroe. I just wanted to offer you my empathy.”

Linda pauses for a moment to contemplate her choice of words. “Your _empathy_? Who in the hell are you?”

The other woman looks down at her feet before opening her coat to reveal a nurse’s uniform. “I’m a nurse at St. Damian’s, and I think I can answer some of your questions. My name’s Becky. Becky Barnes.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW! That was a wild ride, wasn't it? Hope everyone kept their seat belts on!
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment or some kudos, and if you ever want to chat with me about this or anything else, follow me on Tumblr @somethingsareworthit 😊


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